


Burning Bridges

by totheendoftheworldortime79



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:30:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totheendoftheworldortime79/pseuds/totheendoftheworldortime79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma makes a choice. Post-Neverland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 3.05. Unless you live under a rock, you'll know which spoiler I mean.

Emma walked briskly down the pier, the weathered wood creaking under her feet. She didn't even know what she was doing down here. Well, that was a lie. She knew exactly why she was coming down there, she just didn't want to admit it. Ever since they'd returned from Neverland, the man who dwelt in the ship that grew larger in her vision had been a near constant presence in her life. To her parents' dismay, Emma and Hook had become close during the search for Henry. His certainty that they would find Henry never waivered and she'd come to rely on him in ways she hadn't relied on anyone...well, ever. It was a scary and confusing prospect, but he never pushed her, even after she'd kissed him. For all his needling and innuendos, when it really mattered, he'd given her space to figure things out. Unlike Neal.

To say that she'd been shocked at his return would be an understatement. He'd just appeared one day, walking out of the Neverland jungle and back into her life. When they found Henry, he'd been ecstatic. Gold, relieved. Emma had just been confused. Neal just appeared and assumed that now that they were both free, things could go back to the way they had been before. He'd been _engaged_ not two minutes before he fell through that portal; had never bothered to find her for _ten_ years, and he really thought it was that easy. And when Emma proved reluctant, both Neal and Henry could not understand why. They hounded her almost daily, asking when she'd finally relent. Her parents were no help at all and Emma found herself disappearing for long stretches trying to sort out how she felt.

Through all that Hook had maintained a quiet and understanding front. He saw her nearly everyday – away from the others – subtly letting her know that he was there and he wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't going to give up on her just because Baelfire was back. She knew they had a history; Hook had told her about how Baelfire had rejected him him all those years ago in Neverland. She hadn't spoken to Neal about it; the very mention of Hook made him angry, despite the very real role Hook had played in returning Neal's son to his mother. It was an attitude she couldn't tolerate; she wasn't sure what her feelings toward Hook were, but she knew he'd been there for her in Neverland and Neal wasn't. Whoever Hook may have been when Bae had met him three hundred years ago, that wasn't who he was now. It had been that way from the moment they met; he'd introduced himself as Killian Jones, not Hook. He knew her in a way no one ever had – not even Neal. She couldn't just ignore that. It meant something to her; Hook meant something to her.

And that was why she was walking toward the _Jolly Roger_ in the middle of the night. She'd hadn't seen him in several days – highly unusual since Neverland – and she was worried about him. The first few days she'd tried to shake it off, pretending she was thankful for the respite. But she missed him. This was the sixth day and her worry that she had taken too long – that Hook's patience with her confusion had finally run out – got the better of her. She'd gotten up, thrown on some clothes and drove to the docks.

She climbed the gang plank and walked quickly to his cabin. She could see a bit of light peaking out underneath the door, so she knew he was awake. Briskly, Emma knocked. “Hook?” she said. “I know you're in there. Open up.”

She heard feet shuffling then the door swung open. Hook stood there dressed in his usual boots, leather pants and black shirt. His vest and coat were thrown on the bed haphazardly and a half full glass of rum sat on his desk. He regarded her with a neutral expression. “To what do I owe the pleasure, love?” he asked, stepping back so she could enter.

Emma caught sight of the maps on his desk, maps of the coast and shipping lanes. Her stomach lurched uncomfortably. “Um, I...uh,” she mumbled. Now that she was in front of him – her worst fears apparently confirmed – she had no idea _what_ to say.

“Spit it out, darling,” Hook said, closing the door. “You're obviously here for a reason.”

“Where have you been?” she asked. She hadn't meant to blurt it out like that, but his tone bothered her.

“Did the princess miss the no good pirate?”

Emma finally tore her eyes from the map and looked at him. “No,” she said seriously. “I missed _you_.”

“I can't imagine why. You have your family. Your love has returned to you. Surely, you have more important things to do that worry about me.”

“What happened?” Emma asked. “Why are you acting like this? What happened to the Hook who wouldn't give up?”

Hook looked down at the floor, took a deep breath, then back up at her. “The foolish hope of an old sea dog, love. Nothing more.”

Emma shook her head. “No, I don't accept that. Someone said something to you. Tell me.”

“No one said anything to me, Swan,” he snapped. “It's high time I moved on. Never been much for staying in one place, me.”

She knew he was lying. “I'm not leaving until I hear the truth, Killian. You owe me that much.”

His eyes snapped to hers in surprise. “Say it again.”

“What?”

“My name, love. You said my name.”

Emma looked at him with wide eyes. She _had_ said his name; it just came out, as naturally as if she'd been saying it for years. She stepped closer to him and looked him in the eye. “Killian Jones,” she said evenly. “Tell me the truth. Please.”

He closed his eyes as if savoring the way his name sounded on her lips. Then he opened them, looking at her sadly. “It was Baelfire,” he said quietly. “He told me he'd take Henry far away from here if I didn't go. I know how much you love that boy; I'd never ask you to choose me over him.”

Emma stood there, stunned. _Neal_ had done this? He couldn't let her figure out what she felt and who she felt it for on her own? He had to try and force her hand, by trying to get rid of his rival? She could tell Killian was telling her the truth; it did him no good to lie. How could she have ever loved someone like that?

She looked back into Killian's face, into those blue eyes that could see right through her. Finally, she recognized what burned there: fierce love, devotion and a desire not to cause her anymore pain. This was a man who would fight for her and do so honorably, because what she felt mattered. She wasn't some prize to him; she was everything he had believed lost. Emma remembered the night in Neverland when he'd told her everything. About Milah and Rumplestiltskin and Baelfire. About how his hatred and revenge had consumed him. Emma had been uncomfortable with how he'd looked at her then. But she knew what it was now. As he'd said when he'd returned with the bean: he just needed reminding that he could. And she, Emma, had given that back to him. Now here he was willing to give that up so that she could remain close to her son, because he _knew_ how much Henry meant to her.

“Emma, love, say something,” he pleaded, breaking the silence.

Her throat was painfully constricted as emotions swirled through her head. So rather than try to speak, Emma closed the distance between them and kissed him. When he didn't move or respond, Emma started to pull away, face red from embarrassment. But she'd gotten no further than a step before Killian jerked her back into his arms and kissed her with such passion, her knees almost gave out.

“Emma,” he murmured against her lips. “I love you. Gods, I love you so much.” He didn't give her a chance to respond, just kept kissing her breathless. Emma wrapped herself around him tightly, the feel of his arms around her giving her a sense of safety like she had never known. And that's when she knew where and with whom she belonged. Killian was her safe harbor, the one person with whom she didn't have to hide or live up to some crazy expectations. He never asked her to be someone she wasn't. And he _loved_ her, just as she was.

When they finally had to pull away for air, Emma leaned her forehead against his. “If you leave, I will personally hunt you down and drag you back,” she informed him, trying to catch her breath.

“Is that your way of telling me you love me, Swan?” he said, stealing another kiss from her lips.

“Maybe.” Emma threaded her fingers in his thick dark hair. “I've always said it first...then gotten left.”

“If you truly desire me to stay, then I swear I won't ever leave you, love. Not unless you send me away.”

Emma looked into those blue eyes and tried to imagine a world without them, without him. And it made her stomach clench. “Don't ever leave me, Killian.” she said quietly.

Killian smiled at her. “I'm not sure I could now anyway,” he said. “Now that I know what it's like to have you in my arms.”

“I've never been good at talking about...feelings. Actions are better.”

“You'll get no argument from me, darling.”

Emma laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Were you really going to leave?” she asked quietly.

Killian stroked her hair with his good hand. “I didn't want to, Emma. But I saw firsthand what losing Bae did to Milah and I knew you'd never make the same choice. And I couldn't have lived with myself if you lost Henry because of me. Since you hadn't declared yourself either way, I thought it would be easier if I left.”

“The only person who has a say in who and what makes me happy is me,” Emma said firmly. “I know what everyone expects me to do. You were the only one who was willing to give me a chance to sort everything out. Even though it made you unhappy.”

“As long as _you_ are happy, love, that is all I need.”

“I'm happy right now,” she said, breathing in that salty sea scent that was uniquely him.

“Aye, love,” he said in a low voice, kissing the top of her head.

“We're going to have to tell them.”

“Aye. Tomorrow. It's late.” Killian paused, then raised her head. “Will you stay?”

He didn't have to elaborate; she knew what he meant. “Yes, I'll stay.” Emma had made her choice and she didn't want to waste anymore time being without him.

  

The next morning Emma woke up a little disoriented, the smell of the sea filling her nostrils. She blinked away the early morning sun and looked beside her. Killian was fast asleep next to her, his arm securely around her middle. She smiled at the sight; he looked so peaceful, the first real peace she'd seen on his face. Gently, she pressed her lips to his forehead; she didn't want to wake him. They'd have to face the world soon enough and Emma wasn't quite sure she was ready for that.

In the gentle sway of the _Jolly Roger_ in its berth, Emma searched her heart for a sign of doubt that she'd made the wrong choice. She found none. This, with Killian, it felt _right_. More right than any other choice she had made in her life, including the one to remain in Storybrooke all those months ago. And after being denied real choices for so long, she'd agonized over it. Someone was going to get hurt; it was the nature of the thing. But Neal wanted something Emma couldn't give him. He'd hurt her too much, she could never be certain he wouldn't do it again. But Killian...he'd gone above and beyond, supporting her, helping her, coming back for her. When Killian Jones gave his word, he meant it. He'd die rather than abandon her.

Neal and Henry and possibly her parents would be upset, but Emma had to do what was right for _her_. It was Killian that she loved. She understood that now, understood what had happened – had been happening – since she met him. He fit her in a way no one else ever could; it was time to take that leap of faith.

Emma could feel Killian stirring next to her. She glanced over at him; his eyes were open and staring at her adoringly. It was a look that used to give her butterflies – still did, in fact – but it no longer scared her. “Good morning,” she murmured, turning to face him.

“You're still here,” he said. Emma could hear the tremor in his voice; it made her heart ache for him.

“Yeah, I am,” she replied, running her fingers over his stubbled jaw. “Did you think I would leave?”

Killian rolled onto his side, facing her properly, never letting his good arm leave her. “I _hoped_ you would still be here when I woke up,” he admitted. “But I didn't want to presume.”

“Killian, I've made my choice. I love _you_.” She glanced away, sighing. “I think I have for a while. But everything was so confused there for a while and Henry was missing. Then we got back and everyone just... _expected_ things. Everyone but you. You were the only one who was worried about _me_. It meant a lot to me.” She turned her eyes back to his. “But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere. No matter what happens when we leave here...I'm in this, Killian. With you, right now.”

“You love me,” Killian said in awe. Emma blinked at him. It really was the first time she'd said it out loud. She _loved_ him. Killian Jones, pirate, was the man she loved. Her happy ending. Who'd have thought that?

“I certainly hope so,” she couldn't help but tease. “Or I woke up in the wrong bed.”

Killian blinked at her, then grinned that grin that secretly made her weak in the knees. “Well, we wouldn't want that now,” he said, leaning close to her. “Maybe we should _test_ this bed, love. Make sure it's up to scratch.” His lips ghosted over hers, waiting for to respond.

Emma only paused for a second before she pressed her lips firmly against his. She knew once they'd taken this step, there'd be no going back. Hence why they'd spent the night almost fully clothed in his bed. He was giving her an out, a chance to change her mind. And while Emma loved him for it, it wasn't necessary. She was his and would always be his.

Killian groaned against her lips, kissing her back with increasing urgency. His hand trailed up her side until he was cupping her cheek. “I love you,” he said fervently. “You have no idea how much.”

Emma bit her lip, trying to get a handle on her emotions. After all the hurt and pain he'd suffered, Killian had never run from how he felt about her. Not even the guilt caused by Neal's return had deterred him. It was devotion that Emma could only hope to repay one day. She wanted to say something, to reassure him that she really was there to stay, but actions said more than her words ever could. She captured his lips again in a heated, demanding kiss, pulling him to her.

Killian growled low in his throat, his hand tangling in her hair as he kissed her. Emma's hands skimmed his broad back, relishing the feel of his skin against hers. He'd slept shirtless, a horrible temptation once they'd gone to bed, but now Emma was more than okay with indulging herself. Killian rolled them so that he was on top on her, her legs spreading for him automatically, like they'd done this a thousand times already.

Killian tore his lips from her and trailed them over her jaw and down the column of her throat. His good hand glided over her shirt to her bare legs. “You have no idea how much these taunted me, love,” he said in a low voice. “Wanted you so much last night.”

Emma laughed, dragging her hands over his torso. “Speak for yourself, pirate,” she countered. “But I appreciate your attempt to be a gentleman.”

“Told you I was, remember? On the beanstalk?”

“I remember,” she said, her hand moving to the side of his face. “I remember everything.” From the very beginning, he'd gotten to her; she could hardly get him out of her head. And now they were here. “Now you are gonna talk all morning or what?” she challenged.

Killian's eyes darkened and he gave her a wolfish grin. He caught the fabric of her shirt, pulling it up over her stomach. “If I had my hook, I'd just tear this,” he wickedly; the timber of his voice going straight to her core. “But I think you want to keep it, yeah?”

Emma squirmed under him. “Probably a good idea,” she said. “I didn't exactly bring my pirate friendly clothes.” Gently, she pushed him up to allow her to pull the shirt over her head. As soon as the fabric was on the floor, Killian's hand started wandering the newly exposed flesh, setting her skin on fire.

“Gods, love, you are gorgeous,” he breathed.

Emma reddened. She wasn't used to such praise, especially stated so fervently. His fingers glided over the strap of her bra, his eyes curious, wondering just how to remove it. “Here,” she said, reaching behind her to unclasp it. She slid her arms from the straps and threw it to the floor.

“You'll have to show me how to do that one day, love,” Killian said, drinking her in.

“I think you'll get the hang of it pretty quick,” she replied, laying back once more, pulling him with her. They laid there, their chests flush, staring into each others' eyes, green clashing with blue. The intensity of the love and adoration in his eyes almost causing Emma to lose it again. She ran her fingers lightly over his jaw. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

Killian didn't hesitate, lowering his head, bringing his lips to hers. Like that day so long ago, when she'd kissed him for the first time, Emma was lost in the feel of his lips on hers. It was like the whole world fell away and it was only them, would only ever _be_ them, forever. It had scared her witless then, but she welcomed it now. Emma wove her fingers into his dark hair, holding him to her as Killian's hand skimmed her bare skin. His tongue slid out, exploring her mouth thoroughly, as if this would be the last time they got to do this, instead of the first.

Emma arched against him, desire coiling low in her stomach. “Killian,” she breathed against his lips.

“I love how my name sounds on your lips, Emma,” he replied, his own lips moving down her throat, nipping at her pulse.

“Sorry it took me so long to say it,” she said, angling her head to give him better access. “Should have a long time ago.”

“'S alright, love,” he murmured. Killian moved lower, his tongue flicking over her warm skin. “I still can't believe you're really here.”

“I really am,” she promised. “Not going anywhere.” She gasped as his lips closed over her nipple, suckling gently on the hardened peak. She arched into him, fire rushing through her veins. Never in her life had she wanted someone as much as she wanted him. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her head buried deeper into the pillow.

“The lass likes that, I take it,” Killian said cheekily. He switched sides, teasing her other breast, driving her crazy. She loved that he wanted to explore her, find all those places that made her writhe in pleasure, but they had time for that. They would have all the time in the world now. She just needed him.

Emma rocked her hips urgently against his, her nails digging into his forearms. “Killian, please,” she begged. “I need you.”

Killian groaned, bringing his dark blue eyes back to hers. His hand trailed down her side, snaking under the waistband of her underwear. He tugged on it, the flimsy material tearing. Killian pulled it away from her body and tossed it away. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a fiery kiss. Her hands moved down his torso to the laces of those leather pants she'd come to love. He was straining against the laces, hard and throbbing beneath her touch.

“Gods, love,” he breathed, his forehead pressed to hers. “Best hurry, lass.”

Emma tore at the laces with shaking fingers; now that they were this close, she'd become inexplicably nervous. She got them loose enough to push the leather down over his hips. Impatiently, Killian kicked them away, settling back over her. She could feel him, hot and throbbing, at her entrance. Emma bit her lip as he gazed down at her.

“I love you,” Killian said, his fingers skimming her cheekbone. Then he thrust forward, taking her in one smooth motion.

“ _God_ ,” Emma moaned, relishing the way he fit inside her. It felt incredible; he filled her and stretched her in all the best ways.

Killian's head fell to her shoulder; his eyes were closed. “ _Emma_. Gods.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I feel it too.” That sense of completeness, of _home_. It was amazing and overwhelming and she needed _more_ before she went mad.

Killian seemed to read her mind, because he started to move, pulling almost all the way out before driving forward, making them both cry out as he hit bottom. “You feel incredible,” he said in a low voice, his breath hot against her ear.

“Christ, Killian,” she said, another moan tearing itself from her throat. She rocked her hips back against his desperately, needing so much more. “ _Take me_.”

“As you wish, my love,” he murmured. Killian immediately picked up his pace, driving into her over and over again, hard and deep, exactly as she wanted. Emma kissed him, pouring all of her love and passion for him into it, knowing deep in her bones that this was where she was always meant to be. Everything she'd been through had led her here, to this moment with him.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. “I love you, Killian.”

“ _Emma_ ,” he said. “Gods, I want this to last. I need you so much.” He stared at her, his weight braced on his hookless forearm. Emma moved her hand over it, unperturbed by his stump. “You have me,” she said. She could feel her release building; it wouldn't be long. He felt too good and they'd waited so long. “It's okay.”

Killian kissed her again, his hips moving faster, more erratic. She gasped into his mouth as he hit that spot inside her, making her shiver. “Right there,” she cried. “Oh god, right _there_.”

Killian groaned as he did as she asked. In moments, her stomach muscles were clenching, her hips rising to meet his. “That's it, love. That's it. Come for me, Emma.”

It hit her hard, her inner muscles squeezing him tightly. She yelled his name as he continued to drive into her, riding her through her release. A handful of thrusts later, Killian gave a shout of her name as he spilled himself inside her.

Emma's eyes were closed, but she could hear their hearts hammering as Killian collapsed on top of her. He was heavy, but Emma couldn't muster the will to protest. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. “Am I squashing you, love?” Killian asked, his breathing still ragged.

“Not yet,” Emma replied, stroking his back. “I'm fine.”

“Good, because I don't want to move.”

“Not exactly a fan of that myself,” Emma admitted.

“That mean I can chain you to this bed, Emma?” Killian asked, raising his head, a teasing smirk on his lips.

Emma couldn't help but smile back at him. “As much as I would probably love that, we do need to venture outside eventually.”

Killian frowned. “Are you _sure_ about this, darling?”

“I am. The past is just that: the _past_. That bridge burned a long time ago,” she said seriously. “It can't be rebuilt. I want a fresh start with someone I love and trust. That's you. It's always been you. It just took me a little while to figure that out.”

Killian smiled, clearly relieved. “I never thought I'd have something – some _one_ – like this, ever again. But you,” he brushed the hair away from her face, “you made me believe again. I love you.”

“After we tell everyone, you'll have me all to yourself,” Emma said quietly. “We'll probably have to lay low for a while, give everyone a chance to get used to the idea. It'll be hard for some of them.” Henry, in particular, would be disappointed. But given time, Emma hoped he would come around. He seemed to like Killian well enough already.

“You're worried about the lad,” Killian said astutely.

“A little,” she admitted. “But I'm going to do what I should have done a while ago. Take a leap of faith.”

“I'll take that leap with you, love. Always.”

Emma smiled up at him before tugging him down for a kiss. Everything would be alright. She believed. For the first time in her life, Emma Swan believed.


End file.
